


Divine Rapture Between Gods

by nigellecter



Series: What is Unseen is Love Eternal (Kaecilius x Wanda) [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8580448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigellecter/pseuds/nigellecter
Summary: Kaecilius / Wanda (NSFW)Rp thread between scarlctgoddness and kaeciliusthezealct (little-lady-lecter and nigellecter).





	1. Chapter 1

A welled-up, peculiar emotion pours over his form, shining with absolute sincerity as the web of his finger curves over the instrument of both his destruction and a clutch for stability. His dual-wielding scythe etches with a serene orange glow as the calming scents of incense whirls upon his utilitarian Avengers quarter with dripping wax drops from the candle. Therapeutic and aromatic, his deep inhale through his nostrils that would surely get him to float upon the tranquil surface of unperturbed ocean as he visualizes such exquisite memory of Adria and himself locked in arms, and the world begins to whorl then. The beauty of all elaboration and eloquence is simply unmatched as his crude lips mold against his beloved’s lips, as their breaths coalesce and he’s locked in a dizzying intoxication he hadn’t been blessed before, and he feels the drenching sun melt onto their unification. She’s the one who calms such untamed creature like himself and though he believes he had compartmentalized all the complicated feelings for her, they never disappear as he had archived them down, just like how he would with his retained knowledge. 

Wanda’s words immediately make him to crash to a stop at the red light and he could hear his whirling astral body screech to a halt upon particularly stifling and dry summer night. His breath catches within the chambers of his diaphragm and his heartbeat stumbles towards the earth, just forward where he’s sitting cross-legged. His projection winds and weaves around his motionless form and lay over him like a net. He seldom gets interrupted like this, not in this blasphemous way, but he has to admit, deep down, the thought had crossed his mind and his lungs are now working frantically to pull the escaping air back to him. As if that had been the only sensation he could draw his concentration upon. “And since which point in time have you exactly gotten the idea to ‘fuck me’?” A genuine curiousness, as his caved almond eyes lifts up an arch, in his usual prodding penetrative intensity. The trailing smoke becomes tumultuous within the recess of his mind and the stars seem to shimmer even more so bright overhead. 

He doesn’t know how she had managed to instill a spot of illumination within him, but it seems to agglomerate in epic proportions as it becomes deep in hue, steadily glowing as his eyelashes flutter.  _ Might as well as he let it happen, trying wouldn’t hurt, would it?  _ He had been already through the symphony of pain and had been broken into individual fragments. His training had shaped him further and driven such wreaking havoc behind the recess of his mind, for now. Call it as a gravitational force upon two giant weapons of war to meet in that very fateful day at the conclave, and he could finally feel his heart pounding in his ears in its genuine eagerness. His meditational rhythms might have already been disrupted, so until the rightful notes strikes within his brain, he would have to let his mind swirl and face the inevitable. How it would happen, he has no clue. 

___

Wanda wasted no time, hurdling the seats of the spacious car to reach the front seat beside him. Gaze set on his mouth, she sat rigidly upright, scanning him from his mouth down to the lapels of his coat. Typically, this was how she sized an enemy, regarding said enemy’s physical size and stature before engaging in combat. However, this time her lips were parted, eyes darting between his face and his hands, vividly imagining him holding her against him as she had her way with him. It made her stir in her seat, before she realized he was giving his consent, even if he was confused by the sudden statement she had made only moments ago. She does not answer his question, not with words, but the steady gaze she holds as she situates herself across from him says enough.

Grabbing his collar, Wanda pulled him towards her without another spoken word between them, sensing the sudden excitement released in his mind as her mouth clashed against his, hardly daring to position herself into someplace more comfortable less they break contact for more than but a second. The overwhelming desire was something she hadn’t felt in many years, and she had no qualm upon indulging herself wholly in Kaecilius less he decide he did not want her in the same way. But Wanda knew he did. His mind pulsated with desire, making it hard for Wanda to withdraw from his thoughts to focus more on the physical attributes of him.

Her fingers were claws around his clothing, her aggressive display of desire only heeding for a second as she shifted closer. Possessive ownership of somebody who was rightfully hers. Displaying animalistic desire was not something Wanda was ashamed of, for she knew he was responding quite well. Between the eager kisses and breathy sighs, Wanda attempted to speak, but all that became coherent was “On top of me” and “now” as she shrugged off her jacket and pushed his off in return.


	2. Chapter 2

He feels her breath and he contemplates, as his sunken deep-purple fixates upon her compacted features. Through his intricately braided ponytail, he feels generated heat rise from his hairline as a drop of sweat curves around the temple. Used to being sized up in such a manner and for a man who is capable of holding his absolute composure through narcissistic ego and stoicism, her gaze upon him is like a tigress clutching an imminent prey, so she could sever its artery to drench herself in fluids and blood. Was this how it was supposed to play out? A battle for dominance and an overwhelming lessen in himself, to let himself subjugate into corporeal debaucheries he hadn’t been able to sink his teeth into all those years. 

And now she was the closest thing he had of a home, wasn’t she? He had known nothing besides her walls, veils and they’re able to stand taller than they had ever imagined through shared traumas. He’s more like a caged pup beneath her, as his impassive, yet passionately charged crack ripples beneath his darkened, sun-drenched flesh. This is the most simplistic and carnal way he could return the favor, of her teaching him and lifting the affliction that had threaded through his heart all those years. As soon as their lips lock and he’s fervently digging further into the valleys and ridges of her profile, he forgets all the stops and barriers that had halted him from plunging headfirst into the unfathomable sensation. His tongue twists, grasps a hold of hers as teeth nip, suck and paint strokes upon what’s  _ rightfully his.  _

Worlds form and dissipate through his gestures, as his scythe-like fingers dig further into her flesh and the deep cerulean blue sky slants and darkens with her form completely molded on top of his. The darkened canvas streaks and paints with all the hues of life he hadn’t been graced with beforehand and he’s utterly wandering around the headspace like a lost vagrant. Drawing a strained breath as lips ajar, their mingling saliva leaves a trail upon the descending streak along his cheekbone and his heart collides with his chest cavity, immediately taking his pants to lodge against back of his throat. Wasting no time as garments hurl all over the dashboard and front seat, his veined hands clasp around her wrists as he pins her beneath him as he busies himself to free him from all the hindrance. Even his well-polished scythes, carried with him at all the times no matter what the occasion.

___

Truthfully, it was rather embarrassing how Wanda was essentially reduced down to a whimpering, demanding mess the minute his hands found her body. Perhaps it was her inability to withdraw from his thoughts as he pinned her back against the car window, or how she was able to feel the race of his heartbeat against her skin. For a long moment, she allowed herself to be held there, reveling in the submission of control like a rabid worship of unholy god. Of course, he would do as she desired. It was the duality that thrilled her; commanding to be held down, demanding to be devoured. She never considered how thrilling it was just to lie beneath him with her wrists pinned above her head, feeling his breath heavy against her skin. Surely, she was in paradise. 

_ They were gods, after all. _

Shifting forward, Wanda sank her teeth into the skin just below his jaw, freeing one hand to work through the back of his hair, gripping it tightly. Wordlessly, she drew him closer as their lips met again, demanding his whole being to be entirely one and her own. She was already  _ sweating  _ and gasping for air by the time they parted again, but she wanted him  _ more, _ wanted him to lose all traces of gentleness and hesitancy. She was not a fragile being. She did not wish to be treated as such. Whatever it was about him that thrilled her, she was insatiable as her mouth sought to devour his once again.

Surely, there would be bruises. Wanda could already see a dark spot forming from where her lips and teeth matter his skin. Thankful for their solitude, Wanda did not have to worry about being silent. She was gasping, breathing so heavily the inside of the car began to cloud. Had anyone else treated her this way? Would she have  _ ever _ allowed another human or mutant to treat her this way?

It was terribly simple. The answer was  _ no. _ Under his forceful grip, she felt not a hint of remorse nor shame that she was demanding to feel him  _ more. _ No regret that she was drawing small rivets of blood down his back with her nails. No qualms in letting him sink into her and let him unleash what he may upon her skin. Here, pinned beneath him, gasping and hissing his name, she felt freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

_ She just seemed to know how and where to push the buttons, didn’t she? _ This wasn’t all that different from their initial training.  _ Advance _ , formulate and conglomerate his innate energy as far as it goes in his defense, in the hierarchy of their dynamics as their intuitive attraction stretches out their universe and let that transcend into its greatest moments of joy. Everything sours as he conquers the height he had never reached before, an inward flight within the aftermath of the thunderous storm. He’s a branded insubordinate, yet in this very moment where no expanse of sunlight or radiance of star-studded night unfolding overhead would match where he’s headed. Where his former best wasn’t enough, yet when he pours his life and blood inside out in his most uphill trudge, his eureka moment comes in a stark revelation, in the name of hers and her entrapped body beneath him. All the pit stops, as he sunk beneath the unfathomable abyss of his grief and sorrow melts in bedazzlement, as if he had been bombarded with such fervor; his denied revelation in spell of ardor, even more powerful than how he reaches the dishevelled perfection. 

_ Had he ever been this un-put together and falling apart at the seams, where his vision blurs and completely spills over in such melody, echoing his and her name like a milky way upon his ensorcelled skull? _ Her contour of sensual voluptuousness along with the hollow core where he feels a sudden contraction. Slow collapse and elastic body elongates the concept of time and he’s hooked onto her lips like a clashing hook of wave and he hasn’t blessed with such rhythmic ripple of his ribcage, as such thrilling energy proportionally glows as his exposed expanse of tremulous back quivers in flesh and muscles. He doesn’t know how to cope with all of this foreign sensation that seems to shake through his core, as his heart buzzes in jolts, twitching and trembling as everything becomes chaotic. Wanda’s clamp beneath his jaw brings him back from such reverie and incongruity of all this, as his spine paralyzes and tauts, as if he had been hung up in the air. And in that moment, he becomes completely addicted, attached, even destructive. 

Electrifying hazel collides shut upon endless staccato of their mingling lips, and behind all of his closed darkness behind the welled-up abyss where complete darkness resides, he lets the light seep into him. Concurrently, as he emblems with such souvenirs that would entirely make him hers, his own grounding and fevered impression engrains in his mind and etches in his soul. An endless exploration to become ambulatory upon her alabaster flesh, as his hands become shadows contouring and hollowing her out whole. With one of her wrists still bound close to her head, the other hand freely roams. His territory, coalescing and levitating into nothingness as more articles fly off from their trembling, sweating bodies. 

His own paints her with more coral blossoms, as it becomes the hinges winding around her throat as his vocal chords become powerless to elicit such breathless pants he hadn’t ever made while in training. Roaming her breasts and feeling her stimulated body become such a heatwave upon his gale. As his knees dig further beneath the back of her thighs, he’s one stepping stone away from both truly conquering her, and be devoured and savored. Hell, he would be the collapsed ashes of the bridges that she has decimated and she becomes the most softest honey and golden light and as well as a parching sunray that would annihilate his form whole. 

__

She isn’t entirely certain where he stops and she begins – Wanda only knows her body is alight with flame. Briefly, she feels the spell of magic rise in her form and must quickly quell it’s heat in order to not annihilate them both into oblivion. Always at the whim of her bodies emotion and desire, her magic is still a terrifying storm in the essence of her core that had to be kept at bay. Hoisting herself up, Wanda seized the back of his neck and pulled herself into his lap, burying her face in the crook of his neck and jaw. She’d draw blood with her teeth, delighting herself in her strength and dominance and ability to make him tremble with her mouth and hands alone.  _ Asserting _ herself, grabbing hold of his wrists and forcefully bending him back into the driver’s seat with a grunt of effort, willing him to submit as she took a moment to catch her breath.

Their hot, heavy breathing had turned the car into a sauna. Wanda’s long hair stuck to his face and to her back and neck as her mouth roamed form his jaw to his throat, back to his mouth as she closed herself in around him.  _ Shoving _ him down, listening to the sound of his breathing and the avid race of his heart. She paused only briefly, hovering only mere inches away from his mouth. Eyes half-closed, hardly seeing his face.

“Is this what you want, Kaecilius?” she asked, breathy and only half-coherent as if it were even a question any longer. Wanda wanted to hear him say it, every so desperately, even if only to affirm that he felt as desperate as she was. The realization that she had not experienced any physical intimacy in so long was startling; no wonder it felt like she had been suddenly lit aflame with a sensation more wonderful than she could have ever imagined. For every part of her was trembling in desperate measure.

Before he could reply, Wanda slowed her pace. She rocked her hips slowly, planted long, gentle kisses down the crook of his neck, took the skin gently between her teeth as she murmured gentle words of praise and devotion. For despite her animalistic nature, she did have an unending tenderness for the man who stumbled into her haven, lost and misguided, who had finally turned his face to the rising sun and joined her by her side. And, she did adore to see him ask her for  _ more _ in the instance that she was not going at a pace suitable for his needs.


	4. Chapter 4

The agglomerating heat becomes red on white, as their coalescence becomes an unpublished story, the most sacred yet forbidden practice upon his temple. More  _ chaos  _ administered upon his already intoxicated dopamine-fueled body as he relishes in the world of whirling dance that he think he might burst. He’s used to the feeling that crawls up his skin and his adamantine bones, that familiar feel of triumph and indispensable self-satisfaction. Until his synapses in his spinal chord shrieks in rumbling fissures as her avalanches upon his. Yet, the sensation becomes more like a conciliation than anything else, as his flesh paints further with the gestures of ownership. He’s embodying the vanished overhanging sun as his hazel still clutches it with all of his might; it  _ swirls  _ and  _ swells  _ and beyond a doubt, his ribs become so brittle that they threaten to expand and crack. 

_ The hourglass slants _ , the concept of time tips over and such an unprecedented battle rages and ravages through the crevice of his flat planes. He was entirely foreign to having pulled taut that it brims and overflows, the initial breach upon his hardened flesh, soldered with years of training now stretch and melt, lacerating his insides. A means of liberating himself from the contained currents as such worldly pleasures became stagnant.  _ Had his lips fluttered like butterflies’ wings as such impatience fell from his lips in overflow?  _ Such eloquence of his thundering roars, electric sparks and generated currents become viciously relentless and tearing as he relishes in submissive acceptance and equal measure of reciprocated aching and bliss. Restrained in convulsing ring of muscles as veins sing with the hymns, writing itself with their shared bubbling poetry from the hearts. It wasn’t that difficult from when he had been pummeled down, smashing onto the ground and that frantic fresh breath of air he takes is straight out from the gates of limbo. 

Such propelled rush of adrenaline as he steals glances of her explosiveness, becoming inescapable spell as he hurtles into an immeasurable depth of vortex. Singeing his tongue, lapping up toward the flame as he’s onto her like an anaconda. Closed eyes sustain himself in her, wholly and devotedly. Drenched in sweat and his vehement rock crumbling down in rubble and fragments, the gaping hole in his chest, all the drained color of his skin as his ravaged heart had slowly patched itself up, healed from the loss as they become another celestial story. Mind muddled as razor-sharp hazel shoots up as such heavenly view reduces into unfurling wisps of smoke and silent dance of their charged mysticism. In wanton measure and breathless exertion, his lips turn more smoldering as he paints blazing trail with such passion and unrelenting affection. He could only take so much more before he extinguishes and flays at the edges. Leaving him in an endless barrage of excitement. 

Endlessly becoming the chaser upon the chased. “Yes, Wanda, please.. Yes,” double heartbeats with single chest as theirs slip between and forth their slatted structure. Wet earth upon burnt ash as such resurgent energy pins and adheres to the dripping silky ashen locks, more disheveled than ever. How he persevered and prevailed a long way upon his long-drenched malice and grievance and all the wounds and scars left best untouched become now a cascading stars shining through the infinite horizon of her. Subsequently, he had built bridges and buildings upon her crushing loneliness and they had found each other’s home, through unending pump of heatwaves resonating through them as he crashes against her form as he grows ever more frustrated. “More, insatiably more, are you really ready kill me and ready to die at the same time. A concurrent explosion.”  

___

It was immensely satisfying, hearing him plead with her so genuinely that she could hear the precise moment where his voice cracked. Admittedly, Wanda could only moan in response as she quickened her pace, a fraction of an inch between her mouth and his. Small beads of blood lined his throat and hers. Every time they  _ touched _ they caused destruction.  _ How fitting. _ Perhaps this was what they were made for after all. Not the destruction or salvation of mankind, but the utter anihilation of one another. She had never experienced anything like it. The more she demanded control over his body, the more she was losing in herself. She realized that she craved it, and it would only ever be to him that she would give herself so entirely.

_ Not even Pietro had seen her in such a state. _ She had never allowed it, never crossed such a line so forbidden even if their relationship had been unconventional in nearly every way possible from the very start. She didn’t speak of it to anybody, outside the realm of her grief at losing her twin brother born only twelve minutes ahead of her. How could she explain what they had? It was terribly simple:  _ she couldn’t. _ And it was likely she never would. But for the first time in what felt like an entire lifetime, she wasn’t thinking of Pietro. Wanda didn’t think she could even if she wanted to, only focused on the man beneath her and the way her nails curled around his wrists, unsure if she was breaking the skin, knowing he would ont care if she did or did not.

“ _ Kiss me, _ ” she breathed, knowing all too well she could do it herself, as they were hardly a single inch apart. Wanda wanted him to do it, wanted him to do it not only because he  _ wanted _ to, but because she  _ asked _ him to. This indeed was the paradise she sought, fitting for a queen, for young gods such as themselves. Never again would she accept any other substitute for paradise. Paradise was not an alien Vahallah or a place of eternal solitude – now, it was in the back of a car, straddling his body and allowing him to do the same to her. Losing control of the exploding star inside her core. Close to a climax brought on by rough touch and unspoken promise. Whispering his name and begging him for more, even if there was little he could do without use of his hands. She would only free them for long enough to let him touch her, to let herself cry out when his fingers brushed over a spot she loved, before taking full control again as she grew closer to bursting with delight.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s not the phantasm of ghost that haunts and taunts him in the memories, as ephemeral and intangible kisses and caresses that become so intransigent within his reverie. It’s a painful  _ revelation _ , of her hands that remain the sole anchor out of all the looming death in the horizon, and profound grief that had been collecting pieces of himself. He knows, once he gets a lingering taste of things, he will never be  _ satiated _ , just like how he yearned to be pedantic demigod;  _ flawed _ , yet seethingly  _ powerful _ , both capable of uttering sweet nothings as well as to wreck havoc upon the  _ wrongdoers _ as he may become finally whole. As he want to not want, nor need, as he’d be ready to give to others what Wanda has blessed him with such unfamiliar streak of healing power. Instead of being filled with dread as he had so long clung onto it in his form.  _ Widening _ , his deep-socketed eyes deepen in their hue, feeding off the diminishing energy as limbs flop backward. Rigidity soon melts away in leniency as her eagerness paints a stroke over his jawline, breathing and thrumming with life.  

Was it  _ instinct _ that his fingers glide along the planes of her back, leaving impressions, bruises and lashes painted in streaks? Was it  _ instinct _ that he swirls her cascading waterfall of dark umber that becomes a anchor upon what seemed inescapable darkness and he’s on top of her in the most  _ unexpected _ and  _ exquisite _ way? Crafting and molding each other in their touches as they pluck their bodies in orchestration. It was the feeling that stimulated something deep in his very cores, licking thoroughly through their spine like a continuous electric shock as they complete the full circuit. It would be a lie and make him a hypocrite to deny the fact that the memory of Adria would reduce to be the taste of impermanence, yet he doesn’t have to be fearful of the life where he would be pessimistic; he had found the light upon the mirrors and they no longer contained images of empty dead souls, haunting him in a threading blur of smokes. No more breathless desperation that triggered lifeless contours of charcoal and dust, pressing close, stampeding over him as he helplessly lied beneath the confines of crumbled walls as he drained of his explosive vigor and willpower. Blood-leached and wavering grasp upon tangible reality. 

Now painted with vivid and warm radiance of that particular image, replaced by their more than real, beyond ostensible connection and unification, he’s ever more aggravated by Wanda’s heated flesh and still-warm crimson caress. As he loses in their subspace and his voice hoarse with desire, Kaecilius licks a drop of paint which smear onto the curve under her lower lip at her request, then clashes his lips together once again in such force that the collision takes his breaths away instantly after having graced a moment of stalemate. His rough caress paints her skin in both reverence and destructible obstruction, as if he had been breaking her apart; tenacious and relentless as they conduct the same, synchronized orchestration of their muscles and dimples. Pivoting his body like a leverage, he repositions himself to deepen the penetration, profoundly diving as the kindled fire fully bursts into a wanton incandescence. He could feel the dimple along his back arch slightly as Wanda maneuvers him. Through constantly panting sound exchanged through with as almost sour, bitter sweetness akin to animal musk sweeps through the length of their bodies with each inhale, he becomes a wild, unhindered animal, interspersed with inaudible press of moans, turning into eerie shrieks within his cranium, threatening to push through the taut neck which arch. 

There’s so much he could feel as their bodies embody an eclipse, the light and dark coalescing together to cause a world of difference upon the humanity as to let their presences known, if they hadn’t done it already. On road to its pinnacle, he edges, both painfully and delectably, taking rushed skips before he is faced with the zenith of all. Their bodies embody more like a kiln, slow to reach its boiling point, then the heat feels like a widening hole swallowing them whole and each minute movement of their rippling embers elevated to become a deafening roar as he locks in petrification. And a whole world of galaxy presents itself upon his half-lidded gaze, as his stillness extends. 

___

Scarred wrists and bruised thighs were mild setbacks Wanda hadn’t considered even if she had for seen their relationship potentially coming to a boiling point such as this. As they had met in match upon their first meeting, both in wit and strength, they were equals here and now, both of them leaving their mark upon the other in the clouded, foggy car that had surely moved on more than one occasion since they began. Her legs ached, her shoulders were at best mildly bruised, and Kaecilius was only in similar shape. Small beads of blood where he had sunk her teeth into his flesh, smeared down the side from where she had kissed him. The bruises she would leave on his wrists and throat. _He’s beautiful,_ she thought. _Surely, there is nobody else like him on this earth._ _How curious._

She had released his hands in an act of aggressive tenderness, curling her arms around his head and weaving her fingers through his hair, uttering incoherent moans and murmurs of of his name as her body threatened to burst apart before him. Everything seemed to be happening slowly, delicately so, as time seemed not to pass even as they quiet minutes ticked on. They were oblivious; oblivious to their pain, oblivious to the outside world, oblivious to everything in their lives that had ever hurt them in the past. This was right. This was divine. This was how things should be. Surely, they would be gods in the world they created together, whether it be here in the front of a spacious car, or someplace far away from here that they could form upon their own design.

_ Did she love him?  _ Wanda was sure the answer was, indeed,  _ yes.  _ Surely, they had learned one another’s thoughts and feelings like one knows the back of their hand, as surely and as wholly as she had known her brother before he slipped from her fingers. She knew him like she knew no other living man or woman, and it was with him that she felt wholly understood unlike she ever had among her teammates and friends, few be it that she had. Even now, as her core was bursting with light and desperate need for  _  more,  _ Wanda felt entirely satisfied. Everything, at least for the time being, was finally right with the world. 

Wanda’s breath fell in short, soft groans as her hips worked back and fourth, only further encouraged by his vocal response  that she was doing a good job. Pulling his hair back, she kissed him hungrily as a blossom of warmth spread through her belly and down to her legs, causing her to admit a sharp cry before she fell, half-limp upon his chest, breathing heavily as a bead of sweat trickled down her nose. Her heartbeat slowly began to still from the hammering thud against her chest to a quick flutter as she laid against him. Wanda said nothing, but she found her lips curled into a small smile as she willed her body to relax, little bit little, utterly breathless and worn as if she had just run many miles.

_ That was good, _ she wanted to say.  _ That was perfect…it was different.  _ But for the time being, she laid in silence, willing to forgo words in favor of letting themselves revel in the entirety of what had taken place between them.


	6. Chapter 6

The solemn silence is reassuring and contemplative, as their intimacy, commanding teetering of dominance and a sense of ownership intensifies. It had been long overdue for their course of actions and its consequences would present itself to be the source of clearing their feelings. Much malleable and explosive than it had been before; he couldn’t knead and shape them to however he saw fit, even with his strong and calloused fists, yet, he could feel the warmth escape and transpire from the core as it grows ravenous. A gentle breeze wafting the sound of music to his ears that immediately strengthen to ravage through all five senses as it becomes the overwhelming force, except for the fact that Wanda’s praises become so concrete that they stay. While his spine curls and ripples akin to a calm serene ocean for now in a moment of rapturous delight, as he pivots and shifts his position, the vigorous, yet slowed motion that coil around her continue to spiral with his fluid dynamism. 

Straddling her down and his free hand wrapped firmly around her slender wrist, he urges further as his own eyes gleam with strands of sunlight, the specks dancing across the planes and minute movements of her muscles. So much so apropos of the bad, the happy and the sad, now everything becomes coalesced and what had been always constant means of grief become what used to be such forbidden concept. Something he could never have, hold and touch as his own, that would be forever be out of his reach. Now everything becomes so effortless, without perceiving too much of his instinctive movements that become an undulation as his body becomes a grassy meadow with gentle zephyr sweeping through, the rustle of the vast field mirrors that of his hitching breath. Lips ajar and lids half-shut with growing illumination, his gaze upon her body is that of a spotlight; readily familiar as his arm wraps around her; she was his stronghold, and even when the world crumbles down upon them, their relationship will be more real than reality itself. 

As their integral relationship fills with incorrigible desire and inescapable ensnare, he burns and melts concurrently, as his skin proves that the tenderness and sweet, yet such blissful and satisfying love hadn’t always came in quietude; burning, bleeding and bruising. It’s susceptibly addicting to see the power granted upon himself, and reciprocated at the same time, as he becomes a conductor for their bodies’ orchestration. The minute flutter of his muscles, the bubbling enthusiasm manifested in the form of his rubicund healthy glow, spreading like an ocean of effervescence. And once again, they collide with such force and he’s ready; the burn itself that contours through his heated column becomes more potent than the liquor itself as it silences every thought. His hands, in return are free to roam as they fondle and grope, wanting more as they his body spirals out of his control he sought so much. 

Free of his dictation, the tempo unfurls in itself as he blissfully sinks from the rising tide. Slipping in to this had never felt so natural and effortless as the night begins to seep in, and becomes even more so alive and vividly colored than the day; for he could smell the saccharine and moist air swelling within the vehicle as he had lost himself in her. At the same time, he doesn’t feel lost at the same time - _ it’s good to be lost in the right direction. _

___

Marking her territory is what Wanda does best, and Kaecilius is no exception. As her body rolls and and aches with pleasure, she sinks her teeth into the soft flesh of his throat, back arching against his body weight that pins her to the seat. His hands make her whimper, and softly she pleads for  _ more. _ There is only fire in her veins now, everything spinning and spiraling and wonderfully white-hot wherever he touched her. If this was her unbecoming, then so be it. She was ready to unravel if it meant being in his arms. Perhaps what was so extraordinary was that her body seemed to refuse to climax, keeping Wanda right on the edge even as it feels as if she is about to burst at any moment.

When she finally climaxes, her thighs are slick and her legs shake, and the deep groan from within her chest is a mixture of his name and an insensible declaration of paradise. It takes her almost a full minute to come down from the high, for she could practically feel the red magic within her core bursting at the seams to be freed. Out of fear, she withheld, keeping it contained where it belonged as to not injure herself, him, or their haven. Instead, she marked him. It was her teeth at the base of his throat, her nails that had dug into his wrists, her hands that had knotted themselves through his hair.

Quiet murmurs fall past her lips when her orgasm calms, wanting only to lie back and  _ sleep. _ Wanda found herself exhausted, utterly drained from the strenuous exercise. She couldn’t even see out the window, not that there was much to see had the windows not been entirely fogged over. With a weary sigh, Wanda, this time more gently, ran her fingers through his hair, smiling lazily as her eyelids drooped over. 

“You are very good,” she told him. “I’d offer a round two if I weren’t so exhausted.” She winced as she traced her fingers over the marks on his flesh. “We look like we were mauled by dogs.” Wanda laughed. He had been left in worse shape than she had. Maybe she’d have to  _ challenge _ him more next time, pleased that Wanda could look forward to a  _ next time _ in the first place. Kissing him tenderly, Wanda cupped his cheek with her hand, stroking his face with the pad of her thumb as she sighed in content.

“We should…get dressed. Less we attract attention.”


End file.
